


Notorious

by blue_fjords



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Noir, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fjords/pseuds/blue_fjords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s <i>Notorious</i>, 1940s melodrama/suspense.  Ianto goes undercover.  Jack reacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notorious

“Move just a little to the left . . . a little more . . . perfect!” Jack snapped three photos in quick succession. “Okay, could you shift, just a bit?” Ianto rolled his eyes, but leaned to the right and tightened his grip on a rung. “Good, that’s good.” Jack shot him a grin and took two more photos. “I think that’s done it, then.”

“Brilliant. Now we come to the difficult part: getting down.” Ianto glanced over his shoulder and shuddered at the string of warehouses much too far below them.

“Well, maybe we should wait. For you to get comfortable,” Jack suggested, pulling Ianto even closer on his lap and adjusting his grip on Ianto’s thigh and lower back.

“Jack. We are clinging to a dilapidated fire escape above a den of smugglers. There’s no comfortable in this.” 

Jack arched his neck to kiss him. “ _Supposed_ smugglers,” he murmured against Ianto’s mouth. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Against his better judgment, Ianto kissed him back. Jack grinned against his mouth, and parted his lips for him. A door banged open down below, and Ianto almost lost his hold on the fire escape. 

“I got you, I got you!” Jack whispered, pressing Ianto against him.

“Camera, Jack,” Ianto whispered back, catching his breath.

“Yeah. . .” Jack breathed, tugging at the camera around his neck with one hand and gripping Ianto’s waist with the other, relying on Ianto to keep them in place. _Snap_. Jack juggled the camera between their bodies to adjust the focus. _Snap_.

A woman had stepped out of one of the warehouses, face lit up briefly by her lighter. The smoke from her cigarette hung above her head for a moment, then dissipated in the wind off the bay, leaving Jack a clear view. Mid- to late-thirties, attractive, possibly Greek. Her dark hair was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck and little tendrils escaped around her face, giving her a windswept, romantic look. Jack made note of full breasts and rather wide hips before she turned at a noise from inside the warehouse, flicked her cigarette, and walked back in. The sound of a heavy bolt dropping into place carried up to their perch.

Jack looked at Ianto. “So . . . where were we?”

Ianto rolled his eyes yet again. “Going back to the Hub. Which has nice, solid footing.” 

Jack grinned and helped him climb down. “Come on, Ianto! Clinging to a ladder with a dashing captain wrapped around you – wasn’t that at least slightly romantic?” He had a feeling he should be grateful that the wind carried away Ianto’s response. 

***

“Well, we can cross out ‘supposed’ and go right to ‘definite’ smugglers.” Ianto straightened up from where he’d been hunched over examining the photos with a complicated-looking set of alien tech goggles. “Look.”

Jack leaned around him and snagged the goggles, adjusting the eyepiece on the tech. “Wow, bright purple. I would say these pieces,” and he jabbed at the air, forgetting that he was the only one who could see the virtual display, “are 3rd Century Deluvian – very rare. And these over here,” he continued, as Gwen turned in her stool to watch and exchanged a grin with Ianto, while Jack pointed out the coat rack, “are definitely 44th Century Glavid – quite dangerous, in fact.”

Gwen giggled. 

“Are we now laughing in the face of danger, Gwen?” Jack asked, pulling off the goggles. 

She shook her head. “No, just in the face of Jack looking ridiculous.” He flashed her a charming grin and twirled the goggles around his finger as the facial recognition program she’d been running on her computer dinged, and she turned back to the monitor.

“Alexandra Sebastian,” Gwen announced triumphantly.

“That our smuggler?” Jack asked, coming up behind her workstation.

“Antiques dealer, if you please,” Gwen answered with her best hoity-toity inflection. “Age 37, no criminal background, renting a house in Cardiff by the month and owns a villa in Tuscany.”

“Rather posh,” Ianto commented, joining them. Alexandra Sebastian sported an impressive collection of jewels, smiling a Mona Lisa smile in her file photo.

“And into all sorts of charities,” Gwen added. There was quite a collection of photos, all in a different fashionable dress, all with a different younger man on her arm.

“Does she have an office address?” Jack asked, checking out the photos. “She’s got good taste in men, at any rate.”

Ianto huffed a laugh as Gwen punched a few more keys. “No, no office. She’s conducting her business from her house; the business is leasing that warehouse you found this morning – not regulated for office space.”

“We need to figure out how she’s getting her hands on alien tech,” Jack said, frowning at Alexandra Sebastian’s frozen image.

“And her client list,” Ianto added.

“And her hairdresser,” Gwen chimed in. She blinked as the others turned to look at her, Jack amused and Ianto bemused. “Fine then. And her business partners.” 

Jack turned back to the monitor. “You know what I’m thinking?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m thinking there’s a charity function coming up at the Castle this very evening.”

“You planning to go and seduce the info out of Sebastian?” Gwen asked, throwing a quick glance at Ianto, who just looked calmly back at Jack.

“Nah, doesn’t look like I’m her type,” Jack replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I have someone else in mind.”

“Someone else?” Ianto asked with a raised eyebrow. Jack grinned at him. “Oh, no. I don’t like a gentleman who grins at me.”

Jack just grinned wider. “Come on, Ianto, brush off your tux and choose your most charming smile. It’s time to practice your seduction skills. You’re getting rusty.” 

***

Ianto adjusted his earpiece, fiddled with the microphone and camera in his bowtie, and picked a nonexistent piece of lint off his jacket.

“You look very handsome,” Gwen said, coming up behind him.

“Cheers,” he muttered, focusing on his cuff links.

“Here, let me help.” She took his right wrist in her hands and fixed the small piece of jewelry in place. “Ianto?” She asked, picking up his other wrist and fastening the cuff link. “Are you okay with this?”

“They’re Jack’s cuff links,” he answered quickly. “I would have gone with something simpler, but he thought the flash might work tonight.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Gwen said softly.

He sighed. “Gwen, it’s just a job. Like any other.” She gave him a skeptical look, and he grimaced. “You didn’t object earlier.”

“It’s not really my business, is it? Oh, don’t laugh at me; I can give you _some_ boundaries!” she said crossly, swatting his arm. “I want us to get the information and stop the big bad smuggler, yes, obviously. But surely there are other ways we could go about doing this!”

He smoothed his face at Gwen’s distress, and answered as gently as possible, “We need first-hand information, and some of those pieces are dangerous. This calls for a delicate touch.”

Gwen shrugged her shoulders irritably. “Okay, okay, if you’re both fine with this, then I can’t object.”

Jack came clattering down the walkway and into the Hub proper. “Ready, gang? Ianto –” he caught sight of them and cut off abruptly, giving a low whistle. Ianto could feel himself preening under Jack’s admiring look. It took a conscious effort to roll his eyes. Jack sauntered over, hands in pockets. “So! I’m not from these here parts; tell me – are all Welshmen as gorgeous as you or did I just get lucky?”

“You got very lucky,” Ianto answered dryly.

“I did! But am I going to get lu –”

“Ahem!” Gwen interrupted, with a slight smile. “I believe we need to get going?”

Jack nodded to her and offered Ianto his arm. “Come, Ianto! Your chariot awaits!”

***

Jack pulled the SUV up to Cardiff Castle, and Ianto took a deep breath before opening the door. Jack caught at his elbow. “Hey – we’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”

Ianto nodded and seized the door handle, but turned and kissed Jack on the lips quickly before getting out of the vehicle. Gwen looked down at the PDA, smiling. 

Jack drove to an abandoned car park and killed the engine. Gwen pulled up visuals and the two of them leaned together, watching as Ianto entered the Castle. 

Ianto paused at the stairs, turning his body slightly to take in as much of the room as possible. He did not see Alexandra Sebastian yet. He snagged a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and began to circulate, an aloof expression like a mask over his face. Little clusters of men in tuxes and women in cocktail dresses dotted the ballroom. The main topic of conversation was an event that had happened at the Cardiff Riding Club last week. Ianto heard no one discussing the charity, and he had to glance up at the banner above the entrance to the Castle to remind himself what they were here for: Society for the Protection of Cephalopods.

He wandered out to the garden, and there he found Alexandra Sebastian. She was standing in a pool of light, and he had little doubt that she had chosen that strategic positioning on purpose. A string quartet was set up in one corner of the garden, and started up a slow waltz as Ianto grabbed an additional flute of champagne and made his way across to Ms. Sebastian. _The evil smuggler_ , he reminded himself.

She glanced up from her conversation with a sweating little man and favored him with a slow smile. “I was just telling Emile here how very thirsty I was. Could you possibly be intending to share that with me?” Her voice was flavored with a slight continental European accent.

Ianto nodded pleasantly to her. “Of course, Madame.”

She raised a delicately arched brow at him and took the flute, sipping daintily. Ianto was fairly certain it was an act. Alexandra Sebastian looked like she could throw back her liquor.

“This castle is quite lovely, though I imagine it would be extremely hard to heat in the winter, what with all of the concealed nooks and crannies,” she said.

_How subtle_ , Jack’s voice sounded in his ear. “It is, at that. Still, we wouldn’t want our Castle any other way, I’m sure. Ianto Jones,” he proffered his hand. “I’m with the Welsh Tourism Board.” 

She laughed a little tinkly laugh and took his hand. “Alexandra Sebastian. I dabble in antiques – restoration, procurement, that sort of thing.” Her hand was soft but her grip was hard.

“Emile Hupka. I’m in Antiques, too. Their, er, eventual placement,” the sweaty little man piped up. Ianto blinked down at him, but released Ms. Sebastian’s hand to shake Emile’s.

“So, Mr. Jones, does the Welsh Tourism Board offer personalized tours of Cardiff?”

Jack chuckled in his ear, and Ianto smiled. “Is there a part of Cardiff you are particularly interested in, Ms. Sebastian?”

She laid her hand on his forearm. “Please. Call me Alexandra.” She did not withdraw her hand as she continued talking. This close, her perfume was almost overwhelming. “—and the Plass, when was that built?”

Belatedly, Ianto realized she had stopped talking. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the appearance of another man.

“Jones? Ianto Jones?”

Ianto froze. _Damn, who’s that?_ Jack echoed his own thoughts. Ianto turned to the voice.

“It _is_ you! What a small world, isn’t it just?”

Ianto’s heart thudded in his chest as painful memories rose up. He squashed them ruthlessly down. “Mathis. How nice to see you again. What are you doing in Cardiff?” 

Mathis gave him a small, mean smile as Alexandra and Emile looked back and forth between them. “Antiques.”

_Ianto, is that man former Torchwood One?_ Jack hissed in his ear.

“Yes. Antiques. Are you all business partners then?” Ianto started to sweat, and consciously evened his breathing. Jack was swearing in his ear, and he could hear Gwen punching keys in the background.

“Eric has quite the eye for antiques,” Alexandra interrupted, drawing attention back to herself. “However do the two of you know each other? I don’t recall you mentioning an old friend in Cardiff, Eric.” There was an added bite to that last sentence, and Ianto vowed to examine it further, if he got out of this.

“I did not know he had transferred to Cardiff!” Mathis protested. “We worked together several years ago, but you know how it goes, people lose touch.”

“And I am no longer in antiques,” Ianto supplied. “I am quite happy with the tourism industry.”

Mathis gave him an assessing look. Ianto seriously doubted that he believed that for one second, but Alexandra visibly brightened. “Then you would be able to give me a private tour of Cardiff, yes?”

_Good thing she’s horny,_ Jack murmured in his ear.

Ianto turned his most charming smile on her. “I would be delighted.”

“I’m sure,” Mathis muttered under his breath. “Come, Emile,” he continued, turning to the round little man. “I want to talk to you about some of your distribution ideas.” Emile started visibly, but allowed the taller man to steer him forcibly over towards another corridor.

“You must forgive Eric,” Alexandra said, frowning after their retreating backs. “He is intimidated by someone with your qualities.”

Ianto paused, taking a sip of his champagne. “My qualities?”

“Don’t be coy, Ianto darling.” She ran a finger over the chest of his jacket. “And pick me up tomorrow morning at 10.”

“Til tomorrow, then,” he agreed, tipped her chin up to him with one finger, and kissed her rather stridently on the lips. He could feel her burning eyes on his back as he left. 

Jack and Gwen were pulling up as he exited Cardiff Castle. “Well. Did you have a good time?” Jack asked lightly as Ianto climbed into the SUV. “Where will you be taking the lovely Alexandra on your morning date?”

Gwen stared at him. “Are you crazy, Jack? He can’t see her again; Mathis was Torchwood One! We have to break contact.”

“Gwen, this just confirms that they’re more heavily invested than we thought!” Jack retorted. “How many former Torchwood One operatives are masquerading as antiques dealers and dispensing alien technology throughout Wales? The world?” 

“Ianto could be in danger!”

“Ianto is always in danger!”

“And Ianto has an opinion,” Ianto cut in testily. They both snapped their mouths shut. He cleared his throat. “Mathis obviously thinks that I’m still involved in Torchwood to some degree. If I break off contact, he’ll use all his resources to track us down, and we don’t want that. I just have to convince him that I’ve left it behind. So when you drop me off at my flat, no more contact. If they have a smugglers’ meeting or some such, I’ll put in an earpiece, but other than that, just find me once a day and I’ll pass on what I’ve learned on a chip or something. Use Rhys and Andy as well.” 

He paused for breath. Gwen looked stubborn, but Jack was smiling to himself. 

“Look, there is definitely a tension between Alexandra and Mathis. I’ll play that up. They’ll be so busy trying to keep an eye on each other, they won’t notice what I’m doing.”

Gwen nodded grudgingly. “You are good at playing people.” She didn’t seem to notice Jack’s sudden frown. “Right then, we should have a code word or something in case we need to do an extraction.” 

Jack snorted. “How about ‘maple’?”

Ianto could feel his cheeks heat. “An extraction phrase, not a safe word. How about a sentence that includes the word ‘Christmas’?” 

Gwen nodded as they pulled up in front of Ianto’s building. “Be careful, Ianto love,” she said seriously, and Ianto allowed himself to be hugged awkwardly from the front seat to the back.

“Show her a good time,” Jack said, but then leaned into the back and pulled Ianto into a sloppy kiss that went on and on. Ianto could feel a slight tremor of anxiety through the kiss, and he attempted to set him at ease with his tongue and teeth and lips. When they finally pulled away, Gwen was staring studiously out the window, a dreamy little smile on her face. 

“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and hopped out of the SUV before he could change his mind and go back to the Hub.

***

Ianto drove to Alexandra’s house the next morning, arriving at 9:58. He was dressed more casually than usual. He had put a good deal of thought into what Ianto Jones, member of Cardiff’s tourism industry and mid-twenties man hoping to charm an older, successful businesswoman, would wear to conduct a tour of Cardiff’s tourist attractions. He settled on denims, not too tight but not shapeless, a dark purple button-down, and black blazer. It felt odd to ditch the tie, his fingers automatically lifting to tug on the tie to soothe his nerves. He checked his hair in the rearview mirror, took a deep breath, and marched up to the front door. 

Alexandra opened the door before he had even hit the buzzer. “You found me!” she exclaimed with a throaty chuckle. Her dark eyes roamed over his body, and he could tell he had chosen correctly.

“Your antiques company has developed quite a prestigious reputation, Alexandra. It was not difficult to find you.” 

She laughed again, that strange tinkly but throaty purr. “Do come in; I have to get my coat.”

Ianto followed her into a large foyer. He looked around surreptitiously while she crossed to a wardrobe and picked through several coats. There was nothing in the foyer that could really help them. A large staircase curved around and led the way up to the second floor. All of the doors were closed on that floor. To the left of the foyer was a finely appointed sitting room, perhaps leading back into her official offices. The door on the right of the foyer was closed. The only things, other than the wardrobe, in the marble foyer were a large mirror in an ornate frame and a finely carved wooden bench underneath the mirror. Alexandra finally selected her coat, and Ianto helped her into it before offering her his arm as they left the house. 

He took her to some of the lesser known sights in Cardiff, a rich lunch at a French restaurant, tea at a little shop overlooking the bay (where Ianto caught sight of PC Andy out of the corner of his eye, and shook his head), winding up on the Plass. Alexandra was a fan of Roald Dahl, and grilled him about the construction of the plaza area. She stood very close to him in the wind, and he imagined Jack watching from the CCTV cameras, directly beneath them. 

They talked nothing of antiques or Mathis all day, and Alexandra began to smile wider, her fingers lingering longer on his arm, occasionally touching his hair and rubbing an errant lock between her fingertips. Nightfall found them back at her house, and he was unsurprised when she invited him inside and up to the second floor.

Ianto hadn’t had sex with a woman since Lisa, he realized with a slight shock. And he’d been exclusively with Jack for over a year, almost by accident. Alexandra was nothing like either of them. She was bossy and greedy, and her eyes were filled with lust, not coupled with any affectionate glow. Her body was soft and pampered, her curly hair snarling in his hands and her long fingernails scraping along his back. Her nightstand sported an impressive collection of condoms, and they went through three before she finally fell asleep, a contented smile on her face.

Ianto watched her sleep, the moonlight bleaching out the already miniscule lines on her face and contrasting starkly with her dark hair. He was fairly sure he had sufficiently hid the fact that he hadn’t had a very good time. There was just no comparison to Jack. Jack was full of contradictions, demanding and generous, rough and tender, strong fingers and soft kisses. And ever since the night he returned from traveling with the Doctor, Ianto had felt like he had his full attention each time they’d fucked, each time they’d even kissed. That was one of the amazing things about Jack. Alexandra didn’t have it. Ianto had grown used to not being taken for granted; it would take some adjustment to slide back into that frame of mind. 

Alexandra was already up and out of bed when he awoke the next morning. He could hear voices out in the hall, and he leaned his head back against the pillows with a groan. _Mathis, most definitely._ He rolled out of bed and locked himself into the bathroom. A perusal of Alexandra’s medicine cabinet revealed her to have no allergies strong enough for medicine, but the occasional migraine headache. There were no other medicines for any chronic diseases. He took a quick shower, using her expensive shampoo and soaps, and tied a towel around his waist. He padded back over to the bedroom door. The argument was still going on out in the hall. He turned the doorknob and walked right out into it.

“Alexandra? Have you seen my belt?”

Mathis and Alexandra stopped abruptly and stared at him, Mathis angrily and Alexandra hungrily.

“Jones. I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here,” Mathis gritted out. 

Alexandra hit him on the shoulder. “Be nice, Eric,” she murmured. “I’ll help you find your belt, Ianto. Eric, I’ll see you at the warehouse later.”

Mathis took his dismissal with poor grace and flounced back down the hall. Alexandra was already tugging at his towel and slipping off her robe. “You have such interesting scars, Ianto,” she murmured into his mouth, sliding her hands down his arms, across his chest, up along his sides, and pulling him back down onto the bed. She drew him into her, eagerly, and wrapped her legs around his waist. “You should be nicer to poor Eric,” she gasped out. “He’s not like you.” She panted heavily. “He has such a small prick.” Ianto couldn’t help but laugh, and Alexandra smiled smugly before her face contorted with the power of her orgasm.

Ianto went back to his own flat later that morning. Alexandra wasn’t ready yet to bring him to the warehouse, and Ianto didn’t want to rush things or appear overeager to get involved in her business. He avoided the Hub for the rest of the day, in case Mathis was tailing him, and made for City Hall, instead. Andy met up with him on the front steps.

“Jones,” Andy greeted him quietly. “Anything you can tell me?”

“Nothing interesting yet. Have you been in contact with the Mayor’s office, then?”

“Yeah,” Andy replied as they made their way inside. “You can have a desk in the Tourism Department, and you’re listed in the main switchboard. I even made you business cards,” he announced with a hint of pride. Ianto raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a slow crime week,” Andy muttered. “Second floor.” 

Ianto surveyed his desk. Andy had gone all out: there was a framed photo of Ianto with a grandmotherly type he didn’t recognize, next to a computer, phone, lamp and, of course, the business cards in their fancy holder. Ianto nodded approvingly. “And who is my beloved family member, then?”

Andy smirked. “My landlady. Persnickety old bag. Courtesy of Photoshop.”

The phone rang with a shrill whine, and they exchanged a look as Ianto picked it up. “Jones speaking.”

It was Alexandra on the other line, inquiring as to his dinner plans for that evening. They arranged to meet at her place at 8:00.

“What’s she like?” Andy asked curiously when he hung up the phone.

Ianto thought for a moment. “Entitled,” he answered at last. “I’d invite you along, but I think it would be a little too much if we both grinned at her like idiots.”

***

Ianto and Alexandra dined that night on scallops and linguine in a cozy little restaurant overlooking the bay. Alexandra was distracted throughout the meal, fingers drumming the table from time to time, eyes continually leaving his face to wander the length of his body. Finally, as her spoon clinked on her sorbet bowl, Ianto broached the topic of her business.

“I’m sorry if my presence at your house this morning caused any unpleasantness with your colleagues, cariad.”

Alexandra started, and her lips pursed in an amused little smile. “Cariad? What is that? I like the sound of it.”

Ianto smiled slowly and looked away, as if embarrassed. “It’s a term of endearment.”

“Mmmm. I like it. Cariad,” she mispronounced. “And who cares what Mathis thinks? The man is much too full of himself. But then, you probably know that.”

“I didn’t work in the same department as him,” Ianto demurred, “and it was a very long time ago.”

“Well, Mathis thinks that only Mathis knows best,” she stated, voice laced with irritation. “It is always the same with him. But I do not want to talk about Eric,” she continued, and raised her hand to signal the waiter. “I want you to take me back to my house and make love to me.”

Ianto hid his sigh and gave another charming smile. The irritated glint in his eye could easily be mistaken for lust. 

Ianto waited until she had fallen asleep, after insisting he take her from behind, before he slid out of her bed and began a late night perusal of the ground floor. The door on the right of the foyer was locked, and he left it momentarily to get a better idea of the floorplan. The tasteful sitting room to the left led, not into offices, but into a large dining room. All of the flatware and table settings displayed in cabinets on the walls were clearly antiques. _Good advertisement for any potential clients that need to be wined and dined_ , Ianto thought. The kitchen was large, airy and contained dozens of gadgets that looked as if they’d never been used. A door in the kitchen led to a staircase, and he quickly flitted down to the basement. The basement consisted of a long hall with smaller rooms: a sunken wine cellar with a separate exit to the outside, a laundry room, and several empty storage rooms. He was coming out of one of these when he heard a distant creak. _Alexandra_.

He was pouring himself a glass of milk when she wandered into the kitchen, pulling a filmy robe around her nakedness. “Trouble sleeping, Ianto?”

He took a long drink. “Nothing a little milk won’t fix.”

She laughed delightedly at his milk mustache, and crossed the floor to his side. “You look like a little boy! But I am glad you do not act like one,” she said with a leer.

Ianto leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand steady on the small of her back. She gave him a very odd look when they pulled apart, and Ianto felt his heart begin to race in apprehension.

“What were you like as a boy, cariad?” she asked, and he blinked.

“Trouble,” he answered without thinking, and she threw her head back in a laugh.

“And what did you do that was _right_? Come, Ianto, tell me something wonderful about yourself.” She tugged at his hand, placing it on the sash of her robe.

Ianto racked his brain. “I liked to play chess.”

Her eyes lit up. “Chess? Do you still play?”

“I haven’t for years. But I used to be quite good.”

She pulled his fingers through the knot of her sash, and her robe fell open. “How good were you?”

He looked down at her body, ready and willing, and met her eyes. “I won trophies.”

She laughed again, her low throaty purr that he swore was practiced, and slipped out of her robe, pulling a condom from its pocket before it pooled at her feet. Her handprints fogged up the steel door of her fridge as he took her from behind again. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and twisting her nipples, and she moaned his name with each thrust. She was so loud, she never heard the name he moaned when he finally came.

***

The next morning, Alexandra pulled out the chessboard, and they played their first game. She won, and Ianto didn’t even have to let her. It _had_ been awhile. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. She asked him to come back to the house for his lunch hour, but instead of sex, it was chess they played. She had a slight tell for when she was nervous; just one line faintly appearing between her eyebrows. She won that game, too, but it was much closer.

Ianto heard the phone ring as he was preparing to leave, and he paused, still upstairs in what he realized were her official offices, across the landing from her living quarters.

He could hear Alexandra’s voice, just a tiny sliver of fear mixed in with her irritation. “But what have you _done_ with Emile?” Ianto stood stock still, coat half on. 

“We are to make those sorts of decisions together, Eric, or have you forgotten?”

She paced into his view, and she held her hand over the mobile as she came over to him and kissed him. “Tonight,” she said, and did not even wait for his nod before returning to her call.

Ianto spotted a Harwoods Haulage lorry on his walk back to City Hall. Rhys was loading up a pushcart as he drew near, and fumbled one of the boxes, spilling out small packets of children’s costume jewelry.

“Here, mate, let me give you a hand with that.” Ianto knelt and began to gather the packets in his hands. “Tell Jack and Gwen to look into the disappearance of Emile Hupka. I think I’ve found an ‘in’ with Sebastian; should be able to give more info tomorrow,” he muttered.

“You doing all right, then? She treating you okay?” Rhys asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“Her people skills could use some work, but yes, I’m fine.” He handed the last of the packets over to Rhys and moved on.

***

Jack and Gwen sprung into action as more and more information came to them over the next few days. Gwen got a list of names of business associates when Ianto stopped for coffee and Jack got a list of potential clients, some as far away as South Africa, when Ianto ducked into a bookshop for a paper. It was Jack’s first sighting of him in the flesh in four days, and his hands itched to touch him, but Ianto frowned fiercely when he stepped closer. Jack had to keep catching himself as he and Gwen researched from the Hub. He kept turning to where Ianto always stood, or stopping a sentence mid-thought, waiting for him to finish it. He was horny, frustrated, and each time he caught sight of Ianto on CCTV, he was always laughing at one of Alexandra’s jokes, or running a hand through her hair or pointing something out to her. More so than the sex, which he missed but he still had his right hand and hours of CCTV footage, he missed Ianto’s presence and the reassurance of his friendship. He got increasingly snappish, and Gwen took to rolling her eyes more and more.

***

For his part, Ianto was getting better and better at chess, remembering all the moves he had learned fifteen years ago. He was moving into a state of mind he hadn’t occupied since he had Lisa in the basement and Jack in bed. He was increasingly woken up by nightmares, and even those helped his cause, as Alexandra began to wake up with him. He told her the sound of her voice was soothing to him, and she would speak, at first just saying nothing of import, but then she began to tell him of strange things she had seen and the people she met. Ianto kept a running tab in his head. He recognized the description of a Lucian platter, a B’varian timepiece and a Gladrian sex toy – they’d found one, too, and he squirmed into the bedclothes, recalling a night with Jack filled with pleasure so intense he was hard and aching at just the memory.

Alexandra began keeping him with her through the days, but instead of presenting him with an opportunity to explore her computer’s files or find what was locked behind the downstairs door, his moves were more closely followed than before. She was incredibly possessive, her hand firmly hooked through his arm. Finally, she left him for one afternoon to converse with the caterer, as she was throwing a party the next day for a group of potential new clients in town from Rio de Janeiro. Ianto tackled the computer first. Tosh had trained him well, and he was quite confident that he covered his tracks. Tosh had modified several Cruzers, and Ianto used one of those to quickly download files. He could just imagine Tosh’s grin if she could see what her work was doing now. He gave himself a shake, pocketed the Cruzer, and headed downstairs.

The lock was fairly easy for him to crack, and there were no internal alarms. He looked around the room, bemused. It was basically a conference room. There was a low cabinet along one wall, but a quick perusal showed him it just had tea and coffee supplies. The only other things in the room were a collection of rolled-up maps. Ianto’s mobile went off as be began to unroll the first one. _Alexandra_.

“Meet me at the Plass, Ianto, darling; I want to tell you something.”

“All right, cariad.”

He hurriedly snapped photos of each map with his phone and transferred the pictures to the same Cruzer.

Alexandra was leaning against the railing, staring out over the bay and smoking as he approached. He could almost feel Jack’s eyes on them, and while Alexandra’s back was still to him, he turned in the direction of a CCTV camera he knew linked right down to the Hub and gave a cheeky wink.

“Ianto, I must make a confession to you,” she began when he leaned next to her, and Ianto’s heart stilled for one moment before hammering fiercely. “I … allowed Eric to do a background check on you. You understand, don’t you?” she continued hurriedly. “You used to work with Eric in that organization. It’s only prudent to be cautious, considering what we deal with, yes?”

Ianto frowned, and looked out over the bay to buy himself some time.

“Don’t be upset, darling; Mathis couldn’t find anything against you! In fact,” and she fixed him with what he recognized as her ‘find me irresistible’ look, “we would like to invite you to join us after the party tomorrow night, to discuss working together. What do you say to that?”

He drew out his pause before turning to face her. “I would be a fool to say no, wouldn’t I?”

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, flicking her cigarette into the bay before reaching up to kiss him. “And you’re not mad at all, cariad. I knew you would understand.”

She slid her hand through his arm again and led him away. Ianto looked back up at the camera and mouthed “9:00, tomorrow night, party her place.” The Cruzer felt warm in his pocket, but Alexandra had an iron grip on his arm. She was chattering about their last chess match, the first one Ianto had won.

They played chess again that night, Ianto winning one game out of three. Alexandra crowed with delight at winning her second game. She was affectionate, tender in bed, kissing his neck and chest and refraining from leaving gouging marks down his back. She drew his head to her breasts after they’d both climaxed, and told him a story of her childhood in Greece and the grandfather who taught her to play chess. 

That night, Ianto dreamed of Jack, and cold winter nights spent huddled together in his little camp bed beneath his office, Jack’s arms around him and Jack’s voice in his ear, telling him about places he’d seen; the wonder of alien lands and peoples. He woke with a physical ache to see him again, hear his voice, smell his scent, and he fervently hoped it would be Jack that came to the party that night to get the Cruzer.

***

The party was in full swing by the time Jack managed to slip past the security detail. He ducked into the wine cellar, and a hand appeared over his mouth, warm breath tickling his ear.

“. . . and Ally likes her reds very bold, yes, too bold for my taste, ha!” An older man’s stuffy voice issued from further into the cellar, and Ianto pulled Jack deeper into a corner by the door. Jack closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the other man’s aftershave and sweat. _Almost a week._

“Right, two more ought to do it for now,” the voice huffed closer, and Jack could see a portly little old man, red faced with drink and the responsibility of choosing the wine, waddling into view. Ianto released him, and Jack crouched behind a barrel as Ianto walked forward and opened the door for the old gent.

“That’s perfect, Anderson. I’ll be up in a bit; I think she was storing some cognac in a box in the back that I want to pull out,” Ianto clapped him on the shoulder as he gently steered him out the door, shutting it behind him.

Jack was up in a flash, so hungry for his touch, starving for the feel of Ianto’s lips against his own. They had gone longer without the touch of skin on skin (and now Jack was expertly pushing down Ianto’s trousers and pants, belt buckle clanging on the stone floor) but they had functioned in tandem for so long that being without Ianto’s presence had left Jack feeling somehow unreal. He slid his hands over Ianto’s stomach, slightly furry, slightly yielding, and felt more wholly _here_ than he had in a week. Ianto groaned when he pulled his mouth away, and Jack had to take a moment to get his breath back, from the kisses and the way his throat closed up at the sight of Ianto, so fully aroused, so burning with lust. He fell to his knees and drew him into his mouth, watching through his lashes as Ianto threw his head back in a loud gasp. It was over quickly, much too quickly, and Jack had to reach up with his hands to catch Ianto and ease him gently to the floor as his legs quivered in the aftershocks.

Ianto leaned into him as he began kissing the tops of Ianto’s cheekbones, the crinkles by his eyes that only came out when he smiled. Jack could always get Ianto to smile, and his tongue flicked out to lick Ianto’s chin in a reassuring confirmation. Ianto snorted, lips curving up, and reached for Jack’s belt buckle – 

“No, no, no; I have the reserve cognac for our meeting,” Alexandra’s voice was directly outside the door. Ianto froze, eyes wide, before struggling to pull up pants and trousers and belt. Jack stumbled to the door and held the handle in place.

“Oh, would you be a dear and go find Anderson? He went wandering off with some of the inferior swill awhile ago, but we’re still going to need him.” Alexandra continued from the other side.

Ianto smoothed his hair down and grabbed a random bottle of cognac. “Over there,” he hissed at Jack, slipping the Cruzer into his hand and taking his place at holding the door. Jack scooted behind some oak casks as Ianto pulled the door open.

“Alexandra! Cariad,” he faked his surprise, “I was just going to find you!”

Jack could hear Alexandra’s throaty laugh. “Were you now? Tell me, Ianto, did my cognac best you? Let me see that bottle.” Jack craned his neck, and saw Alexandra’s hand on Ianto’s backside as she surveyed the cognac. His own hand twitched, and he grabbed his knee to hold still.

“Oh you silly boy,” she practically giggled, “I am not going to drink this one! We are definitely going to require a different bottle. What were you doing down here, anyway?”

“Making sure Anderson didn’t make off with the good stuff,” Ianto lied smoothly, and Alexandra threw her head back and laughed.

“You’re wicked, you know that? Come here,” she coaxed, a predatory gleam in her eye, “I need help reaching the top shelf.” She fisted her hand in Ianto’s tie and pulled him back into the wine cellar. Jack crouched even lower in his hiding place, but poked an eye out from behind the casks in time to see Ianto position himself to block Alexandra’s view. Alexandra tugged him closer with the tie and began to moan into the kiss. She sounded like a stuck pig, Jack thought with some amusement, before remembering that he had just been moaning into one of Ianto’s kisses not fifteen minutes ago. Ianto’s hands slid down to cup her arse, and Jack stared, frowning. He couldn’t shake the sense of déjà vu, haunting like the bitter taste of metal on his tongue.

“Ally?” It was Anderson again, farther down the hall, and Jack was happy to hear him this time.

“Oh, bugger!” Alexandra swore, and Ianto laughed. “Are you laughing at me?” she pouted up at him, red lips swollen and gleaming.

“It . . . passed, cariad,” he smiled down at her. “Please, by all means, keep practicing your British insults.”

She kissed the tip of his nose, and Jack heard her say, “Straighten your clothes and follow me to the conference room in three minutes.” She picked up a different bottle of cognac and exited the wine cellar, sashaying her hips for Ianto’s benefit. “Anderson!” trailed back from the hall.

Jack popped up from behind the casks. “Cariad?” he asked, eyebrows climbing.

Ianto shrugged and straightened his tie, reddening slightly. “She thinks it sounds romantic and exotic.”

“You play her well,” Jack commented neutrally, walking over and helping Ianto tuck his shirt in.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “That is what I’m here for, after all.”

Jack nodded. “Of course.” He smoothed down the front of Ianto’s shirt and gave his waist a gentle squeeze. “You should get back to her. I’ll arrange to see you tomorrow at some point.”

Ianto turned to leave, hesitated, and crossed back over to Jack. The kiss was rough and needy and if it had gone on any longer, Jack would have blown their cover, but Ianto pulled back. “See you tomorrow,” he whispered, and slipped out the door, leaving Jack hard and alone, and still rather unsettled at being back in the basement. 

***

Ianto walked the last of the clients out to his car and driver shortly after. Alexandra, Mathis, Anderson and two other men were gathered in the conference room when Ianto joined them and sat beside Alexandra. Mathis stood up and unrolled one of the maps. It depicted Cardiff – a Cardiff covered in brightly colored dots.

“Ladies,” Mathis began, “we have a unique opportunity here in Cardiff to work with someone who really knows the lay of the land, so to speak. Jones here is a Cardiff boy.”

The men around the table gave him nods and hooded looks, except for Anderson, who beamed and sipped at his cognac.

“I have every faith that he’ll be able to handle whatever kind of antique we can find. And being as how he is so familiar with the city,” Mathis was smirking now, “I am certain we’ll be able to locate even more marvelous objects for our clients.”

As the meeting went on, it became obvious to Ianto that only Mathis truly knew what they were selling. Even Alexandra, who had her suspicions, hadn’t guessed that the objects were otherworldly. _No, she just thinks we’re stealing and overcharging_. Anderson mentioned getting Morris to help in Madrid and Ianto struggled to keep his face smooth. _Luke Morris, Executive Assistant to the Head of Alien Technology, Torchwood One._

It wasn’t until the meeting was breaking up that he realized he had forgotten to put in his earpiece for it. He would need to get a message to Jack about Morris.

***

Jack cracked a muscle in his neck and glanced over at Gwen. She sipped at her take-out coffee desultorily, not even bothering to make a face at the taste, as she’d been doing for the past week sans Ianto. “What have you got, Gwen?”

They’d been at the information from the Cruzer all night. Mathis had set up quite the operation. Alexandra Sebastian provided the money and the sheen of legitimacy, plus she had several established clients who were interested in what Mathis had to sell. The maps charted the leavings from the Rift. Jack had been a little unnerved by the amount of times Torchwood had missed picking up on something coming from the Rift, although the vast majority of sites marked on the maps fell under One’s or Two’s jurisdiction. There were also storage warehouses in London, Edinburgh and Madrid. Jack had spent hours on the phone with UNIT, working out joint raids and arranging the capture of Mathis’s people. They would need two more days to arrange everything and confirm the information. Jack was already chafing at the delay.

Gwen shot him a commiserating look. Neither of them were any good at patience. “I’ve found out why I can’t find Emile Hupka.”

Jack stiffened. “How’d they do it?”

“They used an ‘antique’ – Mathis would have known exactly how it works. One of those Glavid things you saw – it just vaporized him.”

Jack tapped his lip. “I can’t wait two days on this. I need to warn Ianto.”

Gwen shook her head tiredly. “Jack, he already knows about the Glavid devices, and if you go over there now, you could blow his cover and make it extremely difficult for him. I hate the waiting, too, but Ianto’s not going to appreciate you butting in now.”

Jack shrugged clumsily into his coat. “Then I’ll just keep an eye on him.”

Gwen opened her mouth to argue some more, but Jack forestalled her. “I’ll stay in the shadows, Gwen. Trust me!” he yelled back over his shoulder as the cog door rolled back.

***

Ianto was sitting in the garden drinking coffee, alone, when Jack made his stealthy way to Alexandra’s mansion. “Psst, Ianto,” he hissed through the fence.

“Jack!” Ianto kept his eyes on his mug. “What are you doing here? Is there a problem?”

“I need to talk to you.” He peered through a slot in the fence. “That tool shed. Meet me there.” The tool shed was in the back corner of the garden. Jack surveyed the area, then grimaced and jumped the fence. He was just sliding through the back window when Ianto entered the front door.

“Dammit, Jack, what’s so important? What’s happened?”

Jack gave him a lopsided grin. Ianto was just wearing pajama bottoms and a thin t-shirt, his hair still rumpled from sleep. “I came to warn you,” is what he meant to say, but it came out, “I miss you.”

Ianto gave him an exasperated smile. “I miss you too, but we’re a little busy here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, feeling his cheeks heat a bit. “Yeah, we’re planning a maneuver with UNIT in two days.”

“Who’s hitting the Madrid place? Luke Morris from Torchwood One is in charge of that operation.”

“I’ll pass it on. All you have to do is bring Sebastian to that Italian place just off the Plass, with the green awning, tomorrow night for dinner. We’ll take her into custody and UNIT will take out Mathis and the others.”

Ianto frowned. “We’re taking Alexandra into custody? Good; I don’t want UNIT getting their hands on her.”

Jack frowned back. “Why? Are you losing sight of what she is?”

“What she does,” Ianto corrected absently. “No; I just don’t think she realizes precisely what she’s gotten herself into here.”

Jack cocked a brow. “And we’re so much more understanding?”

“Yes,” Ianto replied simply.

Jack shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, you’ll get your wish.”

“Good. Now come here. You want some of this coffee?”

Jack began to smile as he took the mug from Ianto and inhaled the unmistakable aroma of Ianto-coffee. He’d missed that, too. Still, he nearly dropped the mug at the first touch of Ianto’s lips to his neck. His coat was pushed back, becoming a makeshift mattress on the dusty tool shed floor. He pulled Ianto down on top of him, and their hands fumbled to pull off shirts, slide off braces, push down trousers and pants and pajamas. Ianto took them both into his hand, and the friction and the heat combined to bring Jack almost immediately to the brink. _A week, now._ Jack arched his neck and held Ianto in a bruising kiss, gasping raggedly against his mouth as Ianto’s hands slid over him and his cock rubbed against his own. 

Jack’s hands pulled Ianto closer, closer, feeling the scars from Sebastian’s nails, and he growled low in his throat and came with a gasped, “Mine!” Ianto wordlessly followed him directly after. Ianto rolled off of him, and they lay side by side, catching their breaths. Jack surveyed Ianto’s face through his lashes. There were stress lines on his forehead and small bags under his eyes, the flush of sex only a temporary cure. Jack crawled over him, and began to lazily kiss his face and neck and shoulders. The lines were beginning to disappear from his forehead when they both heard the back door of the house open.

“Ianto? Darling? I was hoping we could play a game of chess; are you out here?” The door closed again a moment later, and Ianto struggled up on his elbows.

“I should go to her,” he said, reaching for his pajamas and t-shirt.

“Since when do you play chess?” Jack asked, looking around for his own clothes.

“Fifteen years,” Ianto mumbled under his breath. “She likes the chess. It makes her trust me.”

Jack gave him a skeptical look. Ianto stood up, straightening his appearance. “Slip out the back in half an hour or so.”

“I _have_ done this before, Ianto,” Jack answered testily.

“Sorry.” Ianto hesitated at the door, and Jack wished fervently he would come back, just for a minute. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Ianto shut the door behind him without looking back. Jack stayed in the shed for a full hour.

***

Gwen looked up with a start when he re-entered the Hub. “I thought you were going to be tailing Ianto today,” she said, rubbing at a crick in her neck.

“He has it well in hand,” Jack said, pulling up a smile for her benefit.

“Ooo-kay.” They looked at each other for almost a full minute before Gwen started again. “I need some sleep. I’m taking the afternoon – and UNIT called. They want to go over the stuff we think is in the Madrid warehouse.”

Jack grunted his understanding, and Gwen, yawning, stumbled out of the Hub.

Jack spent almost two hours on the phone with the UNIT officers who were planning to search the Madrid warehouse. According to Sebastian’s records, it contained mainly what amounted to alien jewelry. Nothing too dangerous, and Jack grew increasingly irritable, his thoughts returning to Ianto’s words -- _it makes her trust me_ \-- as the officers nattered on about security precautions. He finally cut them off. “Look, you have two squads: one should be on the lookout for Luke Morris, and you get one of your other guys with a camera down to the warehouse tonight, assure yourselves, and be prepared to take it over tomorrow night. You have enough soldiers to surround the place. Do it.”

There was a pause on the other end, and finally an affronted, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’ll all get the signal at 20:00 Cardiff-time, 21:00 for you. If everyone can’t confirm before then, you’ll be contacted. Now I have to run.”

Jack snapped the phone closed and sighed heavily. He returned to playing over his conversation with Ianto. He’d played chess for fifteen years? He never played with Jack. He snorted to himself. Chess was a stupid thing to get upset about, but even so, he couldn’t squash the flicker of hurt that Ianto had never shown him this glimpse of his past. He sighed and pulled up Tosh’s search engine and set it to look for Ianto, chess and the mid-90s. He got three hits, three trophies Ianto had won.

Jack drummed his fingers on his desk, and walked through the events of the prior night and the morning in his mind. Ianto was playing Sebastian like a fiddle. How easy it was for her to trust him! How easy it was for _Jack_ to trust him! But this time Ianto was keeping things from him – important things, like the meeting Sebastian had invited him to the night before. He shrugged back into his coat, set the security for the Hub, and made his way back over to Sebastian’s mansion. 

He was in luck. Ianto was just pulling up in the driveway and stopped, startled, when Jack called his name.

“Jack! What are you doing here again?”

“This is worth the risk,” he answered curtly, slipping an arm around his shoulders and leading him inside.

Ianto gave him a strange look, but led him up the curving staircase to a bedroom and shut the door.

“Alexandra went to the warehouse – she’ll be back soon. What’s the matter?” Ianto asked.

“Why didn’t you wear your comm link for that meeting last night?” Jack asked with no preamble.

Ianto blinked. “The meeting?”

“Yes, Ianto, the meeting. The meeting Sebastian told you about last night in the wine cellar, the meeting that convinced you that she was just some glorified dupe. The meeting you said you’d let us listen in on when you started this whole thing. So why didn’t you?”

Ianto took a step back at the tone of Jack’s voice. “I just forgot. It was hectic. I told you what happened at it. And I never said Alexandra was a glorified dupe; I just don’t think –”

“Yeah, you didn’t. I’m the Captain. I’m sending in all these troops, and it’s all based on your word alone. I haven’t heard anything directly from them.”

Ianto stiffened. “I gave you a copy of all her information, the maps –”

“And nothing in them makes her out to be any less culpable than Mathis! That’s just your impression, and nothing you have told me makes me think she’s any better. Unless you have any other secrets you’re hoarding?” Ianto scowled and started to retort, but Jack cut him off. “Why? I just want to know why. Is this another little private thing between you and her? Like the chess?” Jack’s voice was sharp.

“The chess? Jack, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that you had never told me that you were some chess prodigy,” Jack answered offhandedly, waving a hand in the air.

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Because it wasn’t important. And I was not a prodigy.”

“You won awards. I had to look it up,” Jack said evenly.

“Not any good ones,” Ianto shot back.

“Sebastian knew all about your chess playing.” Jack’s voice was getting lower now, a definite warning sign, but Ianto ignored it.

“Stop beating around the bush, Jack,” he snapped back. “This has nothing to do with chess. You’re just mad that I told her something about my past that I didn’t tell you. You’re being ridiculous; this is entirely unimportant.”

“Except that without your little secret, we never would have gotten the intel we need!”

The accusatory tone of voice, added to the stress of faking his way through the past week, set Ianto off, and he rounded on Jack. “Fuck you, Jack! You are in every part of my life! Every fucking part! There’s no longer any part of me that’s just me! For fuck’s sake, can’t you let me have one miserable little thing that’s just mine?!”

“Hey, I never said –”

“You didn’t have to say it! You’re Captain Jack Harkness! You’re larger than life; you’re from the future, you’ve fucked more people and aliens than exist in all of fucking Cardiff, you swagger through life with a wink and a smile, and everyone just rolls over for you! Especially me! God, Jack, I always give you what you want!”

“And Lisa? Was she what I wanted?”

“Of course you would bring her into this,” he muttered, drawing a hand through his hair. “Jack. While she was here, who made your coffee, filled out your paperwork, fetched your dry-cleaning, allowed you to fuck him over your desk? And then you inserted yourself into the one part of my life that was separate from you, and you won. You always fucking win.”

“Oh, is that so? And that time you and my entire team murdered me, did I win then, too?” Jack’s voice was dangerously quiet.

Ianto looked suddenly wary. “That was –”

“What, different?” Jack moved up into his face. “Tell me how I always win when _you_ keep betraying me?” 

Ianto swallowed. “I am loyal to you, Jack.”

“Are you?” Jack’s mouth was barely a finger’s breadth from Ianto’s. “Oh, now your actions are very loyal; you give me your body, your time, your intellect. But what do you _feel_ , Ianto? What would it take to have you turn against me for the third time?” Jack raised his hand, and trailed a finger down Ianto’s cheek. “What lies would you tell me? With your pretty little mouth?” His thumb slid across Ianto’s lower lip, and Ianto reached up and grabbed his wrist.

“I am loyal to you, Jack,” Ianto said again. “I am your man. Don’t you understand that? Whatever you ask of me, I do.”

He looked in Ianto’s eyes, and the fight went out of him. “Why?” he whispered. Ianto didn’t say anything. Jack huffed a bitter laugh. “I’m asking you, Ianto. Didn’t you just say –”

“I love you, you bastard,” Ianto gritted out. “I love you to the point that I forget my own name, anything else that I want, anyone else that I see, anyplace else I would rather be. I love you more than the rush of blood in my own veins. You terrify me, you fucking bastard. _I love you._ ”

Jack gaped at him, eyes wide. Neither man heard a door slam downstairs, or feet pad up the stairs.

“Ianto? Darling? Are you here?” Alexandra paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Ianto’s hands on Jack’s wrist and shoulder. “Who is your guest?”

Ianto cleared his throat and took a step away from Jack. “An old acquaintance of mine. James Harper.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Harper. I’m Alexandra Sebastian.” Alexandra faked a smile as she offered her hand, and Jack had to struggle to pull out an answering smile in response as he bent and kissed her hand. “Will you be staying for dinner?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly intrude,” Jack finally managed to speak again. “I have to go . . . do . . . something.” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Sebastian.” He nodded to her. “Ianto, I’ll find you later.” Another nod, and then he was down the stairs and out the door.

Alexandra watched him go, then turned back to Ianto. “You’re chewing your lip, darling,” she said, a trifle sharp. Ianto raised his brow at her, and she quickly smoothed her features. “I don’t want you to get full. I’ve made us dinner.”

Ianto smiled his first genuine smile in awhile. “You cooked?”

“Don’t be stupid, darling. The cook cooked. But I _hired_ the cook.” She held out her hand to him. “Shall we?”

The dining room was set for two, one lone candle providing the light. Alexandra bade him sit, and she would go tell the cook to begin serving. Ianto twisted his napkin in his lap and tried to still the furious pounding of his heart. _Damn Jack for showing up here again. Damn Jack for making me say what I said._ He almost spilled his water when he reached for it, and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He thought he smoothed his face enough by the time Alexandra joined him.

They chatted about chess and the weather during three courses. As they finished their pudding, Alexandra raised her wineglass. “A toast! To Cardiff and antiques and love affairs!”

“Cheers,” Ianto mumbled, and clinked his glass with hers, hoping the red wine would calm his nerves more.

Alexandra eyed him over her glass. “Of course, this is a very strange love affair.”

Ianto fumbled for his glass. There seemed to be two of them. “Why?”

“Maybe the fact that you don’t love me.”

Belatedly, Ianto realized he should probably say something. But his tongue was swelling up and it was just so _hard_ to concentrate.

“Tell me, _darling, cariad_ , do you really have such a low opinion of my intelligence? You let Captain Jack Harkness into my house. _My_ house!” Ianto’s vision was sparking, Alexandra’s angry face coming into and out of focus. “How could you do that to me? You know what Mathis would do to me if he saw Harkness here!” Rationally, that made sense to him, and Ianto tried to nod, but he had lost control of his actions. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have been warned about him? Mathis is not a complete idiot! What were you doing with your hands on him?” She moved closer, and he could feel her breath on his cheek as she hissed, “Did you ever fuck him in _my_ house?”

He slid bonelessly from his chair, the wineglass slipping from his fingertips and shattering on the floor. Her face filled his vision. He had breath enough for just one act of defiance. “Yes,” he croaked. Blackness covered him.

***

Ianto was supremely surprised to wake up again. He blinked wearily and tried to turn his head. Morning sunlight streamed in through the open curtains.

“Comfortable, cariad?” Alexandra asked in a sing-song voice. She leaned over him and Ianto tried to focus on the room around them. They were in the bedroom and from the distant dull aches all up and down the backs of his legs, she had dragged him up here herself. “Just lie back and think of Cardiff.” She smiled humorlessly. “I really wish you hadn’t brought me to this, darling. But you shouldn’t be in much pain – you’re practically paralyzed and the whole thing should be done in 24 hours, and no one will ever be able detect it.” A line appeared on her brow. “You understand, yes? I cannot have you revealing that I’ve been found by Captain Jack Harkness. Mathis would kill me!” She smoothed a lock of hair off his forehead and he tried very hard to glare at her. “You’ll be dead by 9:00 tonight. Any last words?”

He couldn’t swallow. His throat felt like it was stuffed with old socks, but he tried. It didn’t sound much like “Christmas,” and Jack and Gwen couldn’t hear him anyway, but he wanted to say it. “Christmas,” he stuttered out again.

Alexandra watched his struggles dispassionately. “I have no idea what you are saying, but your accent is still adorable.” She stood up. “Now I must be off. I’ll check on you later, cariad.”

Ianto lay back in the bed and tried to move a muscle. He couldn’t. Darkness was creeping in again, and he fought to keep his eyes open. He failed at that, too. God, he wanted Jack.

***

Jack paced the length of the conference room in UNIT’s Cardiff headquarters. Orders had been given, reconnaissance teams were in place, and confirmation of the alien tech was trickling in from London, Edinburgh and Madrid. He checked his watch one more time. It was just after 7:00. _Almost time_. He resolutely went over the plans one more time in his head; anything to distract himself from his last conversations with Ianto. His heart ached at the rawness of Ianto’s confession and his shoulders twitched at the weight of responsibility. _I am your man. I am your man. I am your man._

“Jack.” Martha appeared at the door to the conference room. She would be acting as UNIT’s representative when he took Sebastian into custody. “Did you want to leave now?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, let’s get into position.”

He gave her his arm, and they walked out into the staging area. Gwen was suiting up in SWAT gear, and her eyes twinkled as Jack laid his hands on her shoulders and addressed her as “Most High Commander of UNIT.” Gwen would be leading the UNIT squad in taking down the warehouse, and Jack preened at the flush of leadership that colored her cheeks.

Jack and Martha took an unmarked sedan to the Italian restaurant and waited at a table with a view to the door. And waited. And waited. Martha kept up a steady stream of chatter, and Jack recognized it for what it was: a way to set him at ease. He flashed her a patented Harkness grin, but could tell she wasn’t fooled. The clock in the restaurant ticked past 8:00 with no sign of Ianto and Sebastian. Martha’s comm link began to blip and she hissed at them to hold steady. 8:05. 8:10. At 8:15, Jack rose to his feet.

“Something’s gone wrong. Martha, we have to get to Sebastian’s _right now_.”

Martha grimaced. “Jack, I agree, but you need to convince the others to hold off for just a little longer.” She passed him her comm as they ran back out to her car.

Gwen sounded slightly panicked on the line, the UNIT leaders irritated. “Where’s your man, Harkness? I thought he was supposed to be the signal, yeah?” one of them asked.

“Something’s happened,” he answered, gripping his armrest as Martha cut a corner extremely close. “We’re going to pick them up at the mansion. You just hold tight.”

“Mansion, is it?” That was the commander from London. “How do you know he hasn’t pulled a runner? Rich mistress and all that.”

“Ianto is my man. He’s not at the restaurant, that means something has happened to him. You just sit tight,” he gritted out.

“Ianto’s Torchwood,” Gwen chimed in. “Don’t worry, Jack, we’ll wait for your signal. Take care.”

Martha glanced at him as he muted the comm. “Are we going for stealth here, Jack, or are we just busting in, guns blazing?”

“Guns blazing,” he answered immediately. Their argument was playing in a continual loop in his head, reaching down and tying his stomach into knots.

“In that case,” Martha cut across traffic to turn on Sebastian’s street, “grab my pack in the back. Meds,” she answered his questioning look.

Jack opened his door and sprinted for the entrance to the mansion before Martha even got the car in park. She caught up to him as he slammed into the door and continued into the foyer. Alexandra Sebastian was coming down one side of the marble staircase, and she froze, mouth agape at the sight of two furious, armed agents. And the guns that were trained on her.

“Where is Ianto?” Jack barked out. She stared at him mutely, but gave a squeak and turned to run as Jack bounded up the stairs. She didn’t get very far before he seized her by the scruff of the neck and turned her to face him. “Where is Ianto, you miserable excuse for a human being?!”

Sebastian squeaked again, wide eyes flicking between him and a closed door down the hall. “Answer me!” He pointed the gun at her face.

“Jack!” Martha came up beside him. “Leave her with me. Look, her eyes keep going to that door over there,” and she pointed to the bedroom door. “You go look there. We’ll follow,” she finished grimly. 

Jack leapt up the last few steps and rushed down the hall. “Ianto! Ianto!” The door swung open at his touch.

Ianto was lying in Sebastian’s large bed, utterly frozen. Jack gave a low cry and crossed the space between them in three steps. “Ianto!” The only thing that moved on him were his blue eyes, tracking Jack’s movements. Jack could feel his heart breaking at the look in his eyes; trust and forgiveness and hope, all rolled into one shining look. Jack pulled him to his chest and kissed his strangely feverish brow, stroked his cold arms. “Martha!” he yelled in the direction of the hall. “I need you!”

Martha pushed a cuffed Sebastian into the room in front of her. “Let me see him, Jack.”

Jack reluctantly stepped back from the bed as Martha bent over Ianto’s still form. “We’re just in time. You’ll be okay, Ianto.” She looked back up at Jack. “I’ve seen this before. She poisoned him with nectar from the aldishy plant – very common, but no less dangerous because of it. Luckily the antidote is also very common and I always include it.” She shrugged off her pack and began to rummage inside it. 

Jack turned on Sebastian. “So! Not so innocent, are you?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she sulked back.

“Good thing I don’t give a damn to hear anything you have to say on the matter.” Jack reached up and hit his comm. “Gwen? We have Ianto. Proceed. All of you, proceed.”

“Proceed? With what?” Sebastian asked sharply.

“Taking you down,” Ianto croaked out from the bed, and they both turned to see Martha helping him sit up. Jack let out a sigh of relief that came from the very tips of his toes, and crossed back over to the bed. Martha tactfully moved aside and let him help Ianto sit up.

“What do you mean by that?” Sebastian’s eyes were starting to look a little wild. “Ianto? What is he talking about?”

Jack shot her a murderous glare. “You don’t get to talk to him. You haven’t earned the right.”

Ianto huffed a shaky laugh. “I was actually trying to protect you from Mathis, you know,” he addressed her, “but now, I’m going to make sure that he knows exactly who it was that revealed the inner workings of his smuggling ring.” 

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “You can’t do that! Do you have any idea what he will do?”

Jack ignored her. He slid one arm around Ianto’s waist. “Do you want to try standing?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, please,” Ianto mumbled. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet for a moment, then leaned heavily on Jack.

“Ianto! What are you going to do with me?!” Sebastian’s voice lost all trace of throaty purr and entered the range of shrill harpy.

Jack helped Ianto walk past her. He reveled in the sensation of the other man’s closeness, right there at his side where he belonged. He took a deep breath, breathing in Ianto’s scent that, though slightly off from the sickness caused by the poison, was still Ianto. Martha gripped Sebastian’s forearm and followed them out into the hall towards the staircase.

“Jack?” Ianto whispered. “Thanks for coming to get me.” 

Jack paused and looked him in the eye. His hands circled Ianto’s waist, steadying him. There were new lines on Ianto’s forehead, and he kept looking away from Jack’s eyes. “Ianto. Ianto, look at me.” He waited until Ianto did. “I will always come to get you. Always.”

Ianto began to smile, tentatively, and then broader when Jack cupped his chin and kissed him. “Because you’re the captain.”

Jack smiled back. “Because I’m _your_ captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Owe a debt of gratitude to rexluscus and kel_reiley for coming up w/ the idea to do this, and then beta-ing. Originally posted in July of 2009.


End file.
